Cory nodded. “Good. Go find her. I’ll cover for you here until Priyanka calls. I’m on diaper duty tonight. You got Sr.to deal with, but I’m far more scared of what my wife will do if I turn up late.”
Jamie pulled Cory in for a tight bro-hug. “Thank you, man.”
As his friend disappeared into the crowded dance floor, Jamie finally spotted Brinton on the farthest side of the patio, behind the dance floor.
Thankfully, she was alone. Jamie drained his beer and took long strides to catch up with her. But then she beelined for the firepit, right toward his father.
Shit.
Brinton couldn’t believeher timing. Nobody could give more context on Jamie’s journey than his father. She was relieved to knock out his interviews so early in her stay.
Tex tipped his wide-brimmed hat as they crossed paths, leaving Jamie Sr. alone. Her heart galloped in her chest as she approached.
Jamie Sr.’s long and lean silhouette was awash in a blaze of scarlet and saffron. He looked like a tableau from one of those old Westerns she used to watch with her own father.
From the cobalt Adirondack chair where he held court, Jamie Sr. offered a wry smile.
Brinton fidgeted with a few braids that had spilled over her shoulder. “I wanted to thank you again for hosting me and for the party. It’s great,” she said, trying to keep her tone even despite the stress drop-kicking her in the stomach.
“Mh-hmm,” he said, eyes fixed on the crackling flames.
She held up her voice recorder in one hand. “I was hoping I could get a quote from you. You’re one of the most successful country artists, well, ever. How do you feel aboutpassing the torch to Jamie, who’s not only an up-and-comer, but your son?”
“Passing the torch, huh? Didn’t realize there was a name for it,” Jamie Sr. said impartially. Slowly, he rose from his seat. “It feels like a lot of blood, sweat, and tears coming to fruition. It feels like something I would do anything to protect and nurture. Do you know howthatfeels, Ms. Shaw?”
She cleared her throat. “Sure. Legacies help people make sense of life and their place in it. Do you agree?”
“You mind if we speak candidly?” he asked, nodding toward her recorder. “Off the record.”
She pressed the stop button. Jamie Sr.’s brown eyes glowed amber in the low light.
“I’m gonna protect my son’s best interests, even when he can’t do it himself. He can be impulsive, even reckless when he don’t feel in control. Been that way since he was a kid when he…”
Jamie Sr. stopped himself, then rolled back his shoulders.
“I’ve seen it to know that he needs somebody to guide him, to keep him on the right track. So I’m not going to let him throw his life away. That means keeping a close eye on you and that article of yours. He’s friendly with young women like yourself, as I know you’ve heard, but I didn’t do all that I’ve done”—he motioned with his open palm to his surrounding kingdom—“to let him get distracted. Am I clear?”
Did he take her for some kind of notebook-wielding trollop? Brinton wanted to unleash the hot current of fury lighting up her every neuron. Throw that fancy Adirondack chair in the fire. But Black womenrarely had the privilege to exist peacefully in the world, let alone the luxury of being angry. Or to cry.
“What do you think I’m here to do?” she asked Jamie Sr.She was keenly aware that, this time, there wasn’t a quick exit plan.
He rattled the ice and whiskey in his glass, clicked his tongue. “I suppose we’ll find out eventually,” he said, disappearing through a side door and into the darkened main house.
As Brinton stood there, too stunned to move and so much unsaid coursing through her veins, her eyes found Sammi’s. Mid-twirl on the dance floor, she gave Brinton a thumbs-up. Lips formed into a half-baked smile, Brinton shot her one back.
Yee-freaking-haw.
CHAPTER TEN
Jamie’s fingers drummed against the slatted wood tabletop. He’d been watching Brinton and his father from the pavilion. While he couldn’t make out what they were talking about, predictably, it looked tense. What had he said to her? Jamie had to find out.
Brinton stalked toward the dessert table about twenty feet away, and he made his move.
A few moments later, Jamie tapped Brinton’s shoulder. She turned, eyes wide and cheeks plump with whipped cream.
“Oof. Sorry, caught you at a bad time?” he asked, trying hard to ignore how endearing she looked. He needed to focus.
Brinton tried to talk with a full mouth but resigned to shake her head.
